


Sparks

by eternaleponine



Series: Clexathon 2016 [15]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Beauxbatons, Durmstrang, F/F, Triwizard Tournament, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-30
Packaged: 2018-09-13 13:42:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9126136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eternaleponine/pseuds/eternaleponine
Summary: After the disastrous end of the last Triwizard Tournament, many years later they have decided to revive the tradition once again.  Clarke isn't sure whether she's going to enter... but sheissure that the arrival of a Durmstrang wizard whose power makes Clarke's magical spidey-sense go haywire, is going to change things in these hallowed halls, and she's not sure she's ready.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DreamsAreMyWords](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DreamsAreMyWords/gifts).



"They couldn't have come yesterday?" Jasper complained. "Or the day before? Or the day before that? Or any of the days that it wasn't raining? They had to come today, when it's pouring buckets?"

"Shut up, Jasper," someone said. It could have been anyone; it was basically a reflex at this point. Jasper opened his mouth, someone told him to close it. It usually worked for about five minutes.

"Ugh," Raven said, and Clarke glanced over at her in time to see her pull out her wand, waving it and muttering an incantation so quiet Clarke couldn't hear, but all of a sudden they were dry... but the people about three feet away in any given direction were suddenly wetter, and started jostling to get under the invisible umbrella that Raven had created. 

"Watch it," Bellamy said. "You don't want to get caught."

"Who's going to turn me in?" Raven asked. "You're not _my_ Prefect."

"Or mine," Clarke said.

"Or mine," Octavia added. 

"No, but I _am_ your brother," Bellamy pointed out to her. 

"And?" she asked, rolling her eyes. "That doesn't make you the boss of me."

Bellamy sighed. "No, but it means I can always send an owl home to mom, and—"

"And what?" Octavia asked. "She'll send me a Howler? Been there, done that." 

"I think you've actually probably gotten more Howlers than anyone else in the history of our house," Monty chimed in. "Seriously. I mean I don't know if they keep records of those kinds of things, but—"

"But if they do, he'll be sure to find them," Jasper said, elbowing his best friend gently. "Who knew that Badass Hufflepuff was a thing?" 

"Uh, everyone in the history of ever," Octavia said. "Hufflepuffs are the baddest asses of all. We might not feel the need to whip it out and wave it around all the time, but—"

There was the sound of someone clearing their voice behind them, and they all turned to look. "Is that really the first impression that you want to make on our guests?" Headmaster Jaha asked. "That kind of language?"

"No sir," they all mumbled, more or less in unison, and waited for him to walk away before going right back to their conversation, because everyone knew that the man was losing his marbles. They just kept him propped up as a figurehead, but everyone knew that it was really Deputy Headmaster Kane really calling the shots. 

"What do you think they'll be like?" Monty asked. 

"I dunno, but if there are any hot ones, I call dibs," Octavia said. 

"You can't call dibs on _all_ of the hot ones," Raven said. "That's way too broad."

"Fine. I call dibs on any hot _guys_ ," Octavia amended. "You can have the hot girls."

"But you'll have to share them with Clarke," Jasper said. "Since she's sworn off guys after—"

This time no one even had to tell him to shut up; the force of their collective glares did it for them. 

Clarke just sighed. "It's fine," she said. "I'm just not ready to be with anyone right now. Not yet."

The silence that followed was awkward and she was relieved when there was a break in the clouds – not for the sun to come through, of course, they wouldn't get that lucky – but for a carriage pulled by pegasuses (pegasi?) to come through. The carriage was huge, almost like a house on wheels, and when it touched down and rolled up in front of them, Clarke found herself holding her breath, waiting to see what – or who – emerged.

The first one out the carriage door was an older woman (although old was a relative thing in the wizarding world) who walked with a slight limp, leaning her weight against a stick with a jeweled head. She stepped aside and let the students step out, instantly shivering and miserable, for their first sight of Hogwarts... and for Hogwarts' first sight of them.

There were a dozen students in all, evenly split between boys and girls. Clarke's eyes traveled down the row, taking them all in, trying to size them up and measure the odds for or against each one. Not that one could tell much about a person just by their outward appearance, but sometimes you could tell by their... presence, for lack of a better word. It wasn't an aura, exactly, and there were plenty of other wizards who looked at her like she was crazy when she mentioned it, but it was something that she'd always seen hints of, like a barometer or thermometer or something that let her take the measure of a person without knowing much, if anything, about them.

Clarke was forced to look away when Raven dug her elbow into her side. "Anything?" she asked. Even though she couldn't see what Clarke saw, she was one of the few who had never doubted that what Clarke could see _meant_ something. 

"None of them stand out," Clarke replied quietly, "but that doesn't mean that they should be underestimated. It just means that their power isn't flashy."

Raven nodded. "Good to know. Everyone loves an underdog, after all." She smiled, but it was more of a grimace. 

"Strike one," Octavia said. 

"Strike one? Of what?" Wells asked, nudging his way into the group to stand next to Clarke. 

"Where were you?" she asked.

"Library," he said. "I had to finish something."

"It couldn't have waited?" Clarke asked.

"No," he whispered. "Not when I had to sneak it into the pile of essays while everyone was distracted."

"Right," Clarke said. "And now we know why you're not in Ravenclaw."

Raven snorted. "Because he turned in a paper late? I've got news for you, Griffin. Ravenclaws are all smart. That doesn't mean we're all good students. I would actually bet that we are statistically the worst about turning homework in."

"How do you figure that?" Clarke asked. 

"Because it's a waste of time!" Raven said. "We don't need to regurgitate what we've had crammed down our throats just to prove that we know it. We _know_ that we know it, and that's good enough for us. Why spend that time reinventing the wheel, so to speak, when instead we can figure out how to make the thing fly?"

"I've been in mixed classes with Ravenclaws," Clarke said. "They always had top marks."

"I'm not saying that every Ravenclaw is like that," Raven said, rolling her eyes. "Just like every Gryffindor doesn't act first and think later, and every Slytherin doesn't just care about their status. I'm just saying... if you could see what I see, you wouldn't be making such sweeping generalizations about what people in different houses do or don't do."

"Fine, fine," Clarke said. 

"I still don't know what we're striking out of," Wells said.

"Hot guys," Octavia said. "I mean, they're _okay_ , I guess, but..." She shrugged. 

"There's only two other schools coming," Wells said. "How are you going to get to strike three?"

"Seriously?" she asked. "Fine, I guess that was strike two, because this place is already strike one." 

Jasper clasped his hands over his heart and leaned back against Monty. "She's wounded me! I can't go on!"

Monty just rolled his eyes and propped him back up, and Jasper grinned. "One of these days I'm totally going to win you over," he said, presumably speaking to Octavia but she was rather pointedly ignoring him, as she usually did when he started playing up his long since crushed crush on her. 

"Any day now," Bellamy grumbled. "I don't really feel like standing out here all day waiting."

"It's been like five minutes," Wells said. 

"You weren't even here," Bellamy replied. "Where were you?"

"You're not _his_ Prefect, either," Octavia pointed out.

Of their group, Bellamy was the only Slytherin, and they liked to remind him of that fact frequently. Clarke knew that he'd been pretty disappointed when Octavia had started school and been Sorted into Hufflepuff instead of his house. Not that things were nearly as divided as they had been in years past; now it was _mostly_ just a convenient way to separate students out into groups for housing purposes. Some people still took it pretty seriously, though.

"That doesn't mean I'm not allowed to—" Bellamy started, but stopped as the ground under them started to shake, and they all knocked against each other as they shifted and tried to regain their balance. There was a roaring noise that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere, and the air felt thicker and thicker and finally it was so heavy it was oppressive, pushing in on Clarke's eardrums to the point where she wanted to reach up and rub at her ears. She swallowed repeatedly, trying to make them pop, and saw others around her doing the same.

And then suddenly it was as if someone pricked a balloon and all of the pent-up energy went bursting out... and there in the lake was a ship. It was close enough to shore that some shadowy figures on the deck were able to extend out a ridged plank that formed a bridge to dry (well, dry-ish) ground. 

The first person down the plank was a dark-skinned woman, her chin held high, her eyes taking everything in and judging it all. She did not smile, and neither did any of the students who followed her. They formed a line beside her, and this time Clarke had a little more time to assess because she could watch them as they came down the little bridge. Again, nothing too remarkable in any of them... until the last one. With the clothing they were wearing, big and bulky and accented with fur, it was honestly hard to tell the girls from the boys, and this one had their hood up so Clarke couldn't see a face... but whoever it was, they _crackled_ with power, like sparks rising up from a fire, and Clarke actually squinted like that would somehow make it easier to look at. (It didn't, because the truth was she wasn't really seeing it with her eyes. She wasn't honestly sure _what_ sense it was, exactly... or if it was all of them all at once.) 

Headmaster Jaha made a speech, and the Headmasters of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang expressed their appreciation to Hogwarts for so kindly hosting them for this momentous occasion. Because of course it had been quite some time since the last Triwizard tournament, which had ended with one of the four champions dead, and the world on the brink of war. But the past was the past, and apparently they'd decided that it was time to give it another go.

There were people who weren't too keen on the idea, and Clarke knew that some of her classmates had been absolutely forbidden by their parents to enter. Her parents hadn't been among them, but she wasn't sure whether they thought she would enter or not. Really, _she_ wasn't sure whether she would enter or not. She had until midnight tonight to decide... which suddenly seemed like a very short time to make a very big decision. 

Finally, they were all allowed to head back to the school, and as soon as they moved, Raven's umbrella charm collapsed and Clarke gasped as cold drops splattered against her face. She walked a little faster to keep up with her friends, and was grateful for whichever teacher had decided that it would be prudent (or maybe just kind) to set a warming charm on the doorways as they entered, so that as soon as they stepped inside, not only were they no longer being soaked, but they were actually quite dry again. 

"Holy shit," Octavia said. " _Holy_ shit. Did you see him?"

Him? Him who? Clarke's first thought was that she was talking about the last one off the Durmstrang ship, but then she noticed that her friend was pointing not so surreptitiously at one of the other Durmstrang students, the tallest boy with warm brown skin and hair that only down the middle of his head; the sides were shaved completely bare. 

"Oh," she said. "He's not..."

"He's mine," Octavia said. "I called dibs, remember?"

"I wasn't going to..." Clarke didn't even bother finishing.

"You can have him," Raven said. "I'm going after the one with the cheekbones."

"The one who looks like they swallowed a lemon?" Octavia asked. 

Raven laughed. "Okay, a little bit. We'll have to work on that." 

"I'm going to ask him to sit with me," Octavia said. "Are they making us sit by house?"

"Probably," Raven said. "Formal occasion and all."

"But the visiting students will have to sit _somewhere_ ," Octavia said. "And it's not like they're going to Sort them. They probably have their own Houses at their schools."

"Maybe they'll set up a table for them in the back or something," Bellamy suggested. "There's not that many of them."

"That wouldn't be very welcoming," Wells said.

"So? It's not like they're here to make friends," Bellamy said.

"Actually, I'm pretty sure that that's the whole point of this thing," Clarke said. "Wasn't that what Jaha said? That the Triwizard Tournament was an opportunity for us to engage with wizards whose traditions may be different than ours, and in doing so, to broaden our horizons and forge new friendships across the divide. As long as they don't win. Ha ha ha."

"That sounds like him," Wells said, heaving a sigh. He tried not talk about the Headmaster too often... because he preferred if people could conveniently forget that the man was also his father. 

"Yeah, well, just because that's what Jaha says doesn't make it true," Bellamy said. "We don't know what they're here for. We don't know what they want."

"Has anyone ever told you that you can be kind of an ass?" Raven asked him. "Because you really can be kind of an ass."

"Shouldn't you be rounding up your ickle firsties or something?" Octavia pointed out.

"Just... don't do anything stupid," Bellamy said.

Octavia gritted her teeth, and for a second Clarke wondered if they would have to actually restrain her from tackling her brother. But before she got a chance, they were distracted by the ringing of a bell that signaled that they should all find their seats. They all rolled their eyes at each other as they went to their tables, all decked out in their house colors. 

There were extra places set, and Clarke found herself sitting across from one. She heard the headmaster instructing the visiting students to find any empty place, and a few seconds later, she felt her skin prickle. When she looked up, it was straight into the eyes of the one who had sent the needle of her internal sensor into the red. 

The very, very green eyes of the most beautiful, and terrifying, girl Clarke had ever seen.

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies to anyone who disagrees with any of my Sorting. I honestly did not put a huge amount of thought into it. 
> 
> Yes, this is the start of something bigger. Again. My brain hates me and wants me to never sleep, apparently. Not sure when or how frequently this will update, but... it will. At some point. 
> 
> Thanks to DreamsAreMyWords for the prompt.


End file.
